


You and I were due for change

by Unuora



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Some hurt/comfort, That and me having fun throwing my headcanons in every corner of this, Though I think this can be mostly described as a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-23 16:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unuora/pseuds/Unuora
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor have some growing to do, now that they've found themselves in this tremulous place they can callhappy.  Luckily for them, they have each other to stand with, hand in hand.So, they take it one step at a time.[A series of loosely connected one-shots of them being in love and getting used to being loved. I like character development.]





	1. We're all waiting to know; feat, Katsuki Yuuri

**Author's Note:**

> hi. this is going to be a series of somewhat loosely connected shenanigans between viktor and yuuri. i mostly just like to think about yuuri and viktor growing comfortable and happy with each other and, consequently, growing a bit stronger along the way. i like to think that the people you love the most can help you get past things that hurt you. 
> 
> please don't take this too seriously. there really is no concrete plot. i'm just playing in the sandbox with characters i love while trying to destress from college. 
> 
> i love these two so much.

Yuuri is standing around trying to mingle during the banquet when Mila approaches him. He’s hardly talked to her except for when she comes with him, Viktor, Yurio and some of Viktor’s old rinkmates when they go out to dinner or go drinking. Those kind of outings started with just Yuuri hiding behind Viktor and chirping up every so often, but the last times he made jokes that made the whole table laugh. Mila has soft, kind eyes, albeit sometimes devious ones, and when she approaches him he doesn’t have a too difficult time stuffing down his anxiety.

She settles a hip against a table near her, and Phichit, in his infinite kindness, excuses himself from the conversation and fades into the backdrop. Yuuri cautiously tilts his head to face her, following her line of sight to see her focus on Viktor laughing with Emil, JJ, and Chris. Yurio is leaning back on a chair, giving supposedly impassive sardonic comments while Otabek watches wryly. Honestly, Yuuri is a bit amazed at the kind of people he has stumbled into interacting with. A year ago he never would have thought it was possible that any of these people knew his name.

“I’ve never seen him this happy,” Mila says just loud enough to be heard over the murmur of conversation.

“Huh?”

“Viktor. Yurio and Yakov, those stubborn Russian—“ she says a word in Russian that Yuuri only tangentially recognizes, but he knows it’s an insult. “—would never admit it but we were worried about Viktor for a while there. Then he met you.”

Yuuri can feel himself gaping a little bit, his face scrunching in confusion. He’s stuck stumbling over what words to say. Where did that come from? He apparently takes too long because Mila grins devilishly, shifting herself so her body was angled towards him.

“Did you really not notice? Did you honestly think he was just that cheery all the time?”

“W-well, I don’t know! I never—“

Mila barked out a laugh. “Let me tell you, Viktor can be a right bitch sometimes. I’m sure you know that by now but… He hasn’t smiled so much since long before I started skating with him.”

“…Thank you,” Yuuri says, his eyes somehow drifting back to Viktor again. He catches the right moment and Viktor sees him staring. Immediately he beams a bright smile so full of love Yuuri doesn’t know what to do. He waves back weakly, trying to keep the grin back. He hears Mila next to him, laughing again.

“Exactly. That,” she says, “Viktor likes to joke and grin his way through life, but now when he smiles the whole room lights up.”

“Yes,” Yuuri breathes, unable to look away even as Yurio says something that diverts Viktor’s attention back to the conversation at hand.

There is that, he supposes.

Sometimes, yes, even now, those doubts prickle back to the surface without his consent. He worries that maybe he is stealing Viktor from the world, selfishly, and although he no longer doubts that Viktor is happy where he is… sometimes he can’t believe that Viktor really is here.

Those posters on the wall, alive, in person. It’s a little hard to believe sometimes.  Even with Viktor safely tucked into bed next to him, Yuuri still wakes up staring through the dim light of dawn feeling like this all must be a dream. He can’t believe this is actually, truly real.

But he’s not the only person that Viktor inspired to skate. There are lines of skaters that had been fighting for Viktor’s attention, including Chris and Yurio, of all people. It was Viktor that sparked the fire that burned in so many skaters. Yuuri has Viktor all to himself. He _wants_ Viktor to himself. But…

He’s been asked about it in interviews before.

“The world is wondering,” a cheeky reporter had said, all smiles for the tabloids, “ _How_ did you get Viktor Nikiforov of all people into your lap?”

“Um,” he had said, thinking devious cyclical thoughts _I must have tricked him because god, I don’t know? What would Viktor ever want with someone like me? He is the crowned prince of the ice, and I…_

Viktor sweeps into help, pulling Yuuri’s hand out of the fist it formed clenched against his thigh. “He’s the biggest blessing of my life,” Viktor says, all megawatt smile but Yuuri hears a hint of scorn, “Whatever he did it worked, and I’m better for it.”

The reporter laughs and Viktor gives her a dazzling smile, but Yuuri just wants to sink into the Earth.

The questions come like that, periodically but often enough.

_Viktor, we’ve never seen you date another celebrity, let alone another competitor. What drew you in?_

_How did you two meet? It must have been a very interesting night if it was enough to capture Viktor that way!_

_Dating Yuuri Katsuki was definitely a curveball. What does it mean for your careers?_

Every time a question is brought up Yuuri sinks into the seat and Viktor speaks up to divert it. Every time he wants to scream.

“You’re not… less than me,” Viktor says one night after another interview that felt more like a bombardment of questions. They’re back in their hotel curled up watching a movie, and Viktor’s looking up at him through silver lashes illuminated by the light of the tv. He’s getting better at reading him. Sometimes he’s surprisingly astute. “If that’s what you’re worried about,” Viktor continues slowly.

“I know,” Yuuri says with his face thankfully tucked against Viktor’s neck. On the screen the movie dramatically continues on, but neither of them has been paying attention at all. “But that’s what they see. They want to know how I pulled you down from your five gold medals.”

“They can wonder all they want, but I’m keeping you,” Viktor says vindictively, pulling Yuuri closer. The glint of gold on Yuuri’s ring finger proves that. Viktor is so bright that sometimes Yuuri feel like he’ll burst into flames. He is all sunshine smiles and elegant arcs on ice and delicate hands and bright blue, blistering eyes that burn. He is lilting, teasing words that send Yuuri into fits of laughter. He is everything Yuuri could've ever wanted.

Viktor is the star of the solar system. Yuuri has no idea what he's supposed to be. 

 

The end of a competition like the GPF is always a dizzying and busy time, but this time Yuuri feels like he’s living an entirely different experience. With a silver medal hanging on his neck that means there are hoards of reporters asking him questions and fans asking for pictures and offering their congratulations.

It takes a while for him to figure it out. He feels like he has to reorient himself somehow, to put on a smile and take pictures with his fans. It helps having Viktor at his side; that and the fact that he can't run away when Viktor's hauling him to the front lines. And, well, yes, it also helps that Viktor is making him see what he doesn't normally notice.

"Look," Viktor points out after Yuuri had just taken a picture with a group of young skaters from France. They're jabbering rapidly nearby, showing each other the things they got signed and the pictures they just took. One of them even seems to be crying. "You've made them really happy."

"I mean... it's really exciting to be at the GPF," Yuuri says, looking away from the skaters to glance up at Viktor. "There were a lot of skaters that put on a really good show."

"Yuuri," Viktor sighs, in the suffering way of someone who's said something a dozen times to no avail. "They're holding Japanese flags and banners. One of them is wearing a jacket based off your free skate costume."

"Oh," Yuuri says.

"Think of it this way," Viktor says, "I know you adored my skating when you were younger. Imagine if sixteen year old you got my signature after an event. Imagine how excited you would be." Yuuri blushes bright. He can't help it. His family is full of cruel, traitorous fools and they've long since told Viktor about Yuuri's obsession. That doesn't stop him from being mortified, though.

"Viktor--"

"Now, in this case, you would be in my shoes, and they," Viktor points to the young skaters, "Would be in yours."

He thinks back to when he met Minami in the Japan nationals and how Minami admired _him_ like the way that he admired Viktor… It’s a sobering thought. It’s even more sobering to put himself in Viktor’s place; to see himself as a _celebrity_. When he tells Viktor this he just laughs at him. 

"You know you've been a celebrity for a long time now, right?" Yuuri just squints and Viktor sighs, reaching down to grab at Yuuri's hand. Before Viktor, Yuuri never thought that holding hands could make him feel so calm.

"My solnyshko," Viktor says, "You have no idea just how many people in the world adore you, do you? You have done _so well_."

Yuuri doesn't get a chance to say anything else before another wave of fans and reporters swarm them. It's like that for the next day or so, getting wrapped up in the chaos only to be left alone for a handful of moments. More than once Yuuri and Viktor end up apart for long stretches of time, talking to the media and sponsors and the like. But more than once Yuuri catches Viktor staring at him longingly from afar, only to be swept into conversation again.

When Yuuri stares at himself in the mirror he still sees… him. Unnotable. Dime-a-dozen. He knows on some level he’s talented. He still has the silver medal on his desk. His twitter feed is simply flooded with excited jabbering and links and people talking about him like he’s the unreachable one.

Yuuri’s not stupid. It doesn’t take him long to understand how often Viktor looks at him like he hung the stars. The only one to make Viktor look so love-struck is Yuuri.

But he looks at Viktor, his million dollar smile, the way he sweeps into a room and enraptures everyone around him… Well, he just doesn’t understand how he got so lucky.

 

Sometimes Yuuri catches Viktor watching Yuuri’s previous performances. At first he thought that Viktor was maybe going to use it in order to give him better feedback, but Viktor never referenced anything he had previously done. Then Yuuri just thought maybe he was curious, but there were times that he caught him watching the same performance over again. Whatever Viktor was doing Yuuri was always embarrassed to see his past self, clumsy and reckless, on the ice in front of his idol.

It was one night that Yuuri got up to make tea when he caught Viktor watching Yuuri’s rendition of _Stay Close to Me_ on his way to the kitchen.

“Oh god,” Yuuri says faintly, glimpsing the screen from over the edge of the couch. It’s enough to make him hesitate and he stops walking to drift closer. Viktor tilts his head back, smiling softly at him. Yuuri just slumps over the back of the couch, his own phone slipping from loosened fingers to land on the cushions. “That’s so embarrassing. Why are you watching that?” He’s being kind of whiny, he admits, but he when he see how clumsy and pathetic he looks… Yuuri scrunches up his nose. “Can’t you watch something else?”

Viktor just gives him a wry look, not bothering to pause the video. There’s no sound, nothing but the occasional crack of skates on the ice. To Yuuri that just means there’s nothing to distract from his mistakes. On the screen Yuuri stumbles slightly through a jump and Yuuri can’t help but wince in response. He just lets himself bend double over the back of the couch, hiding his face in the fabric of the cushions. It’s terribly melodramatic. He must be taking after Viktor.

“It was the first video I saw of you skating,” Viktor says, ignoring Yuuri’s reactions, “You captured me in that very moment. I knew as soon as I saw it that you were talented and driven enough to be standing on top of the podium.”

Yuuri winces again, pulling himself up from where he’s slumped over the back of the couch so he can prop himself on his elbows. He watches himself land a jump. Viktor’s original performance had a lot of quads, but Yuuri had turned most of them into triples so he could land them. He knows that performance was pretty good, but at the same time… “That?” Yuuri questions weakly, “I was just mimicking what you did, though.”

“Exactly,” Viktor says, and there’s that starry-eyed look again. It’s hard to look away from. “Everything I wanted that performance to be I saw in you. It was a very difficult choreography, mind you. But you made me _feel_ it. I could hear the music; I could feel the lyrics, Yuuri.”

Yuuri looks at the video, where on the screen Yuuri is striking the final pose and the camera zooms in a bit on Yuuri’s face. “I just… look sad, though.”

Viktor lock his phone and turns himself to face Yuuri. “Well, yes,” Viktor says with that thoughtful smile on his face, “It is a very sad song. I choreographed it when I felt very lonely, lubov moya, and seeing you skate that made me sure you were feeling the same way.” Viktor puts a hand on Yuuri’s cheek, leaning forward to put a brief kiss on Yuuri’s forehead. “You brought my performance to life. When I saw myself skate I just saw my boredom and lackluster. But with you, solnyshko, it felt _alive_.”

Yuuri doesn’t know what to say to that, really. So he just licks his lips, trying to swallow back the unbearable swell of affection he feels for this man. “Do you want tea?” He blurts the words out like he has no control of his mouth. He feels stupid, but Vitkor just chuckles and grins at him.

“Sure. I’d love some, darling.”

Yuuri only hesitates for a second but he manages the confidence to lean down and kiss Viktor’s cheek before hurrying away into the kitchen.

When Yuuri returns a few minutes later with two mugs of tea Viktor’s scrolling through his twitter feed mindlessly. He hums in contentment when Yuuri curls up next to him, tucking his knees close and passing the steaming mug to Viktor.

“So,” Yuuri starts, “This whole time you thought I could win gold? Even before you came to Japan?”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Vitkor says, leaning his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I didn’t _think_ it. I _knew_ it.”

 

Post-season with Viktor is a lot more exciting than it ever was before. _Before,_ Yuuri would go back to school to furiously work until the next season. Yuuri loves Chicago, and Yuuri _loves_ being near Phichit, it was always exhausting, somewhat lonely work. This year, though, Yuuri has a degree in his hand and… Viktor wrapped around his finger. It’s heady. It’s invigorating.  Life looks so much more inviting without wasting time dreading what’s to come.

He also celebrates a lot more. Viktor drags him to tons of parties before the rest of the skaters head off on their own. Yuuri had been aware that there were parties at the end of the GPF, of course he was, but he didn’t realize that they could be fun.

Yuuri never liked parties. Strangers make him nervous. As time moves on, though, the less he sees the people he’s skated with as strangers. They’re not just faces in the background anymore. In fact, many of them are people he considers friends.

Sometimes his friends are incredibly stupid, though. He’s still learning to like them.

It takes JJ about four beers and a lecture from Yurio to admit that he was afraid of Yuuri at first. “Listen, like-- We all knew that Yurio was always just angry words,” JJ slurs, “But you, man. When I walked into this rink and watched the underdog soar to first place I thought I was a goner. I mean I was a goner, but,” JJ hiccups, putting an unsteady hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“I respected you as soon as you walked onto the rink,” he says, “You had unerring confidence this year. I thought you were going to rip me to shreds. I still respect you, but now I know you are the kindest man I know, and I like it better that way.” He gives Yuuri a slightly drunken smile and Yuuri laughs back, guiding him back to his girlfriend and sending them off before JJ does something stupid.

But, well. That sticks with him. JJ intimidated? By him? He isn’t quite sure how to take that.

Well, he supposes, it’s sounding more logical as time goes on.

 

“Yuuri, we’ve all been wondering,” another reporter says and Yuuri braces himself instinctively, “Before this season you were quiet and timid, but now you’ve pulled Viktor down from the clouds and made him kneel at your feet. How does it feel to dethrone the ice prince?”

 _Oh,_ Yuuri thinks, and he knows the answer to this one. He knows what role he's supposed to be putting on here, what people want from him. He’s been missing the point this whole time. _I am here!_ Yuuri thinks. _My name is Katsuki Yuuri and I won silver in the GPF! I broke a world record!_ This _is what I am!_ Before Viktor can open his mouth Yuuri jumps in.

“Phenomenal,” Yuuri says with a hint of smile.

 

And, well, for anyone that's taking note, solnyshko means little sun.


	2. It's about time you figured it out; feat, Viktor Nikiforov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor comes back home to Yuuri sick after being away for weeks. Yuuri jumps at the opportunity to take care of him, and Viktor very clearly doesn't get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a sick fic because im terrible. lets see if i can get every yoi fic trope in this one fic.

It’s late when his phone rings. Late enough that it’s very nearly early, the sky beginning to grow pale as the dawn creeps forward. Blearily, Yuuri picks up the phone, somehow managing to hit the accept button and roll over to burrow in his blankets.

“Mmhm?”

“…Yuuri?”

Yuuri frowns slightly, shock bringing him closer to wakefulness. He pulls the phone back to check the caller ID, and the words _Viktor Nikiforov_ show in the dark. The dozen or so hearts that Viktor himself added all stare back at him. “…Viktor? Are you okay?”

“Shit,” Viktor whispers, hushed like he's afraid of disturbing anything. “I’m sorry. It’s really late there, isn’t it. I… I forgot-- I’ll call back later.”

“No, no,” Yuuri tries to stop him before he hangs up, moving to sit up on his elbows. “What’s wrong?”

Viktor laughs weakly through the static of the phone. “Nothing, nothing, I just…” he sighs, and Yuuri could be wrong but it sounds a little shaky. “I wanted to hear your voice. It’s nothing, really. I can call you later.”

Yuuri frowns slightly, feeling that familiar wash of affection and longing for the man on the other side of the phone. “I miss you, too, Vitya.” It’s hard to tell over the phone, but it’s still clear that Viktor is upset. It painful in a way that Yuuri never thought possible, the miles between them seeming further than ever.

“I miss you, solnyshko.”

“Only a few more weeks,” Yuuri says, lying back down on the bed and watching as the sky grows lighter with every moment. He’s just happy that he has nothing to do tomorrow, but even if he did he wouldn’t mind missing a few minutes of sleep to hear from Viktor.

Viktor gives a weak laugh that makes Yuuri’s heart clench. “Yes, I suppose.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

There’s silence for a moment, and he hears Viktor exhale shakily. “I just… I can’t sleep,” Viktor admits slowly, “I can handle it during the day but at night… It’s too quiet here.”

“It’s late in Russia, too, right?” Yuuri makes an impulsive glance towards the clock even though he already knows he’s right. “Do you… can I do anything to help?”

Viktor chuckles and the sound is fuzzy over the phone. “You’re too good for me,” Viktor says softly, and Yuuri misses him in an overwhelming _ache_.

“I could stay on the phone if you’d like,” Yuuri says and Viktor is suspiciously silent for a moment. “It’s okay, I really don’t mind,” Yuuri continues.

“It’s so late there, though,” Viktor says quietly, almost guiltily, which Yuuri knows means he really wants to say yes.

“Viktor,” Yuuri laughs a little, “it’s not like you to be so bashful. It’s okay. I need to get up soon anyway. I’ll stay here until you go to sleep.”

Viktor makes a soft noise but he seems to concede. “Tell me what you’ve been doing in Hasetsu,” Viktor says quietly, “tell me about the inn’s customers lately, and about what your new choreography is looking like. I want to know everything I’m missing.”

In the stillness of dawn Yuuri’s soft smile is hidden in the darkness. “You’re not missing anything. It’ll all still be here when you come back,” Yuuri says, and he tells Viktor about everything he can think of. How he went down to the onsen for breakfast and him and his parents spent the morning watching TV in the morning. He tells him about the overly friendly mailman that always stops to talk to Yuuri for _forever,_ which Viktor finds hilarious every time Yuuri gets trapped in a one-sided conversation with him. Yuuko’s having a birthday party for the triplets and they’re getting old enough that they want a _big huge super party_ which of course Yuuri has been coerced into helping. It doesn’t take long for Viktor’s soft mhm’s of acknowledgement fade into silence. If Yuuri listens very closely he can hear quiet, slow breaths, and only then does he end the call.

By that time it is fully morning and Yuuri stretches with a great yawn before stumbling out of bed.

 

The only reason that Yuuri hadn't gone to St. Petersburg with Viktor was that Mari had come down with the flu and Yuuri's parents needed his help preparing the onsen for the oncoming tourism season. To his parent's excitement, Viktor had already planned a skating event at the Ice Castle which was sure to bring in a whole slew of visitors. Of course that meant that Yuuri was saddled with the responsibility of cleaning _everything_ in preparation. 

So, that left Viktor by himself in St. Petersburg. Viktor had ended the lease on his apartment before flying to Japan, and so, among other things, he was preparing a place for them to stay when they move to Russia for the competitive season. He complained to Yuuri vividly about paperwork he had to do, but he also voluntarily fills out everything for Yuuri's move to Russia and for Yakov to coach him.

"You didn't have to do that," Yuuri says when Viktor tells him that he's completed it.

"Too late," Viktor says cheerily, "You've been working hard at the onsen. You deserve a break."

"You've been working hard too," Yuuri says, only a little petulantly, "You don't have to do stuff for me that you don't want to."

"There will be plenty of paperwork for you to do," Viktor laughs, "Plus, I'm doing a lot of waiting here. I get bored easily, you know."

"I know," Yuuri smiles, and gives up. He doesn't know what's happening, but Viktor had been acting a bit strange since he left for Russia. He offhandedly mentions that he's managing some family things while he's in the country, which is part of the reason why he has to stay for so long, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about it so Yuuri doesn't push. Still, there are days where he sounds very tired when he calls Yuuri. There are days where he sounds outright exhausted.

It all means that Yuuri's counting the days until Viktor comes home to him.

Viktor comes back to Hasetsu sick.

Yuuri meets him at the train station, feeling himself light up as soon as he sees Viktor step through the doors. He's throwing himself into Viktor's arms before he can even think twice about it, and Viktor holds him tight, leaning into the hug. It takes Yuuri about ten seconds to realize that there's something wrong.

When he pulls back to look at Viktor closer he realizes how worn he looks. Yuuri can see it in the heaviness of his eyes, the way his smile looks a little too forced. "Are you okay?" Viktor just laughs, hauling him back into a quick tight hug before pulling back.

"Just a cold," Viktor assures. "Nothing serious. Don't worry darling, I'll be better tomorrow." Yuuri doesn't believe that for a second. He believes it even less when Viktor lets Yuuri take his backpack from him without any protesting. He's just glad that the train station is only a couple minutes’ walk from their apartment.

"I missed you," Viktor says, his voice only a tiny bit scratchy when he grabs at Yuuri's hand during the walk back. "I'm glad to be home."

Home. Yuuri'd be an idiot to miss that. "I missed you too," Yuuri says, gripping Viktor's hand tighter. "As soon as we get back to the apartment you're going right to bed. You look terrible."

"No complaints there," Viktor laughs. True to his word, as soon as they're back Viktor's almost asleep already. He throws himself face down into bed and Yuuri has to stop him from falling asleep with his shoes on.

"Viktor," Yuuri whines, "C'mon, I can't get in with you unless you sleep like a normal person." This, apparently, is enough motivation to get Viktor to sit up again, but just barely.

Viktor's asleep before Yuuri can even get the covers over him. Yuuri's almost positive that Viktor feels much worse than what he says.

It's much too early for Yuuri to go to sleep, but he cuddles close to Viktor and flips through social media on his phone for a while. Yuuri knows him well enough that he knows Viktor will be up in a few hours after going to bed so early. For now it's just nice to be close after so long with them apart.

It's earlier than expected when Viktor starts stirring. It doesn't last long before Viktor's coughing hard, pulling him to full wakefulness. He props himself up on his elbows, and Yuuri's there with a comforting hand on his back in seconds.

"You okay?"

"Mmgh," Viktor says, sitting up completely. He pulls a tissue off the bedside table to blow his nose. "Good... morning? Evening?"

Yuuri laughs. "Afternoon. It's only been..." He checks his phone. "Two hours. How're you feeling?"

"Could be better," Viktor says. He rubs at his face hard, trying to force the world into focus.

"Food?"

"Yes, please," Viktor says, and Yuuri ducks down to kiss Viktor's cheek before hurrying out of the room.

Yuuri knows it’s a testament to how bad he must feel that Viktor wordlessly lets Yuuri coddle him, unusually silent where he’s normally talkative. He gives half-hearted, teasing smiles about how lucky he is to have someone to bring him soup in bed and puts up some protest about getting Yuuri sick. Still, he eats quietly and tucks himself against Yuuri’s shoulder once he’s done. Yuuri hopes it’s because he just got home.

Viktor’s asleep surprisingly fast after he’s done eating, and Yuuri leaves him to rest. Every time Yuuri peaks into the bedroom he finds Viktor dozing in bed, only emerging some handful of times to shower or end up on the living room couch. It’s usually a bit of a verbal struggle before Viktor gets _back_ into bed after getting up, usually ending up with Yuuri on his phone again with Viktor asleep against his side. Yuuri’s quickly finding that while normally Viktor is clingy at best, when Viktor is sick he practically glues himself to Yuuri’s side. The only times Yuuri manages to extricate himself from Viktor’s grasp is after Viktor falls asleep, and that’s only as long as he stays that way.

By nightfall he has only spent a handful of hours awake, and at Viktor’s insistent cajoling, Yuuri put on a movie before bed. Viktor’s only half conscious leaned on Yuuri’s shoulder, and despite Yuuri’s protests Viktor had convinced Yuuri to let him stay up until it was over.

“You know we can pause it and continue tomorrow,” Yuuri had said, watching as Viktor fought his eyes from closing. Even through their clothes Yuuri can feel how Viktor’s burning up. His face is fever flushed. Viktor mumbles sleepily in response.

“No,” is what he settled on, petulant. “I want to spend time with you. I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” Yuuri said, though he understood, to an extent. Yuuri didn’t want to leave Viktor’s side for the next few weeks just to make up for lost time. Still, he’d like a well Viktor over a sick one.

As soon as the movie’s over Yuuri’s dragging a mostly asleep Viktor to bed, who goes without much complaining. Yuuri left cold medicine on the bedside table, and gets Viktor to take it before he lets himself be guided into bed. Mutely, he pulls Yuuri’s arm around his shoulder and Yuuri is more than willing to wrap his arms around him and pull the duvet over them both. Viktor’s skin still feels hot to the touch and for the first time Yuuri notices him shaking, immediately feeling bad for not noticing sooner.

“Stay,” Viktor says, misinterpreting Yuuri’s hesitation. “Please. Stay.”

He doesn’t really know what to do besides coddle him and give him medicine, and if Viktor wants Yuuri to stay with him, then, well… who’s he to say no. It’s not like he wants to leave anyway. It only takes moments for Viktor to fall asleep, and to Yuuri’s relief Viktor’s trembling mostly goes away soon after. Being in bed together is warm and comfortable in a familiar, relaxing way and Yuuri takes a moment to just enjoy it. He had meant to stay awake and to watch him, but sleep takes him quickly and unexpectedly and the last thing he thinks is _at least Viktor’s home_.   
  
Viktor wakes up sometime before dawn, not bothering to check the time, because he feels _terrible._ He doesn’t even have a chance to open his eyes before he’s unfortunately aware of how his head is throbbing and his chest is burning. He takes a moment to mourn the loss of sleep, trying to resist the urge to cough. He feels congested down to his bones. He hauls himself in the bathroom just in time for him to start to cough, really cough—the dizzying, gasping kind of coughing that leaves him breathless—and he hopes that he doesn’t wake Yuuri up.

Moving is painful, _breathing_ is painful, but he’s starving and he figures that should be fixed before he falls back into bed again. After he uses the bathroom he goes to wash his hands and face in the sink and he sees someone almost unrecognizable. Unshaven and sallow; he looks like a nightmare. He glares at his reflection and drinks from the sink because he’s thirsty and _fuck it_.

He makes his way to the kitchen, vaguely contemplating what is simple enough for him to make when he’s like this. There’s not much to go off of, and when he opens the pantry Viktor thinks _fuck, I guess we need to go shopping_ before pulling out a box of mac and cheese. He can manage mac and cheese. Surely.

He loses minutes leaning against the counter with his head in his hands, impatiently waiting for time to pass. Now that he’s really awake he can feel the tickle in his chest grow, the cough becoming stronger as he watches the timer tick down. It’s annoying—well, annoying and painful, and he takes a moment to breathe slowly, trying to regulate his breath.

Once he starts to cough he can’t seem to stop, and it doesn’t take long for his chest to really ache. There’s only a few minutes left on the timer when he begins to feel dizzy from it—well, dizzier—and it hits him suddenly, the force of his coughing drives all the air out of his lungs. Distantly, he realizes that he might pass out, swaying a little, and he lets himself slide down the counter until he’s sitting on the ground.

_Okay. Okay._ _He thinks to himself helplessly, Don’t pass out or else you’ll set the house on fire and Yuuri is still asleep. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out._ He breathes slowly trying to pull himself together, and sitting on the ground is much easier. Eventually the black spots on the edges of his vision start to fade away and he’s left gasping, sweaty and so, so fucking exhausted.

“Viktor?”

He looks up to see Yuuri come in out of the darkness, his vision still a little hazy. Yuuri looks a little panicked, and Viktor thinks that he should probably stand up but Yuuri’s rushing forward anyway. Yuuri stops the timer, which had been beeping, for how long he has no idea, and pulls the pot to another burner. Viktor just rests his head on his knees, feeling useless.

“Hi,” he mumbles when Yuuri crouches down, panicky hands on his shoulders.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Yuuri looks concerned, probably for good reason considering Viktor almost just burned the apartment down.

“Dizzy,” he says, feeling sufficiently embarrassed, “I’m fine. Just… just dizzy. It passed.” He fights another wave of coughing, gasping through it. Somehow it’s much easier to breathe when Yuuri lets him lean against him, rubbing his back comfortingly.

Once it passed Yuuri pulls back. “What are you doing out of bed? Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I was hungry,” Viktor says simply, because that’s obvious. Why would he wake Yuuri for that?

Yuuri frowns at him and he can’t help but feel kind of like a scolded child. “Wake me next time, Vitya, okay?” Yuuri seems to realize something because his expression softens, reaching out a hand to cup Viktor’s cheek. “I’m sorry; I should’ve left something for you. But I don’t mind, I promise. I want to take care of you. You’re allowed to need my help.”

“Okay,” Viktor manages, and Yuuri scoops him up like he weighs nothing. Viktor should really feel more embarrassed but he just thinks _my husband is absolutely amazing,_ and buries his burning face into Yuuri’s neck. Viktor feels a little bit like he wants to cry.

Yuuri tucks Viktor into bed again before disappearing back into the kitchen. He’s left to fight with the urge to cry bubbling in his throat, feeling useless, in love and overwhelmed in equal measures. In a few minutes Yuuri returns with mac and cheese that is much better than anything Viktor would have made. It has real cheese in it, instead of the instant stuff, and some chives thrown in from the spice cabinet. Its more than Viktor deserves after that stunt.

“Thank you,” is what Viktor manages, staring at the bowl that Yuuri handed him a little blankly. He’s still fighting this awful urge to cry, trying hard not to let it show. He manages a couple bites before he starts coughing again, and he’s definitely decided that this is the _worst_ , this gasping cough that leaves him breathless. Yuuri murmurs something about doctors and rushes out of the room, returning only a handful of moments later with a glass of water.

Wordless, Viktor takes it and tries to breathe through the coughing.

“Sorry,” Viktor says once he gets his bearings again. Yuuri grabbed the bowl of pasta to keep it from falling off the bed, and hands it back to Viktor when he puts the glass of water on the bedside table.

Yuuri’s face scrunches up slightly. “Don’t apologize.”

“That was dumb of me,” Viktor says, thinking of how badly things could’ve gone if Yuuri hadn’t woken up-- if Viktor had actually passed out on the kitchen floor.

“Yes,” Yuuri agrees, but his face is soft with concern and his eyes are full of an overwhelming kind of love. “It was. But please ask for help next time, okay?”

“Okay,” Viktor says, “Sorry.” He feels like a scolded child.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, and Viktor only looks up because Yuuri sounds _distressed_ and he sees the worry in Yuuri’s eyes. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I… know,” Viktor lies, “I just—“ He doesn’t know. He knows logically that Yuuri cares and wants to help, but--

“If it was me you’d want to help me, right?” Yuuri asks, and wordlessly Viktor nods. “If I was sick and was hurting you’d want to help in every and _any_ way possible, right? You’d be happy to wake up and help make me food because you want to show me that you love me and you’d want me to feel better. Right?”

“Yes,” Viktor says. He gets what Yuuri’s doing here. He _knows_ Yuuri loves him, he gets that. It’s not that he doesn’t think that Yuuri loves him, it’s just—

“So stop taking that away from me, okay?” What? Viktor stares at Yuuri for a moment. “You always take care of me, but I never get to take care of you. Please, Viten’ka, let me show you how much I love you.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, teasing. “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once when i was in high school i was also incredibly ill and i did almost kill myself for mac and cheese. not worth it, my dudes. take care of yourself.
> 
> thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed. : )

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. i have another more viktor centric chapter coming soon. i just have to... build my self confidence. this chapter has been on my computer for almost six months now. oops.


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